


Lucky Stars

by PowerfulTenderness



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-05
Updated: 2015-12-05
Packaged: 2018-05-05 03:06:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5358716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PowerfulTenderness/pseuds/PowerfulTenderness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky takes an interest in an art project you've been working on and you're more than happy to share it with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lucky Stars

**Author's Note:**

> So my main fic that I’ve been working on has become really angsty and I still have some dark bits to get through. So when I got inspiration for this fluffy one shot, I went with it.

At the sound of a knock and a buzz from your phone, you checked your appearance one last time before answering the door. Steve, your friend and neighbor, had invited you to a barbeque one of his friends was throwing. Ostensibly so you could meet his other friends, but you had a feeling it was because his roommate, Bucky, had grown at least somewhat comfortable around you, most likely more than with the team. Either way it was rare for you to go out, being somewhat of an introvert, so you accepted. 

When you opened the door, both Steve and Bucky were waiting for you. “Hey, you ready to go?” Steve greeted and asked with a smile. Bucky just nodded his own greeting to you. “Yep.” You answered with a smile and locked the door behind you. Thankfully the trip to his friend’s house, Sam if you remembered right, was pretty quick and soon enough you were meeting everyone. 

You looked around at the gathered company and smiled nervously, having seen all of them at least once during some newscast or another. “Uh, Steve, you didn’t mention that this was going to be a gathering of superheroes.” Was there a word for that? A group of superheroes? Or should you just call them the Avengers?

“Don’t worry about that. Besides, not everyone here is an Avenger. Pepper’s here.” He motioned to the tall, thin, and beautiful blonde. 

“Pepper Potts? No, she’s only one of the most powerful women in the world.” You mumbled under your breath. Steve just sent you a sympathetic smile, but it was Bucky’s snorting laughter that put you more at ease. 

Introductions and greetings went around and everyone got comfortable in the common space. You felt like you were in highschool again. Clearly there was already a pre-established grouping. Clint sat on the end of one couch, Natasha next to him. Tony took a large, comfortable looking, armchair to himself, though Pepper was sometimes seated on his lap or on of of the armrests. Steve and Sam were walking back and forth between two chairs near the couch and the patio, checking on the grill. 

Bucky lingered more towards the kitchen, where snacks and drinks and such lined one of the counters. The two of you weren’t all that great friends. He was hardly more than associate, but of everyone there, he was the one you were most comfortable around. Well, besides Steve, but you couldn’t hang out with Steve without the awkward situation of where to fit in. So you drifted towards Bucky with the excuse of getting a drink.

“It’s kinda awkward being the only one not a superhero here,” you admitted, half jokingly, to Bucky. He looked up at you, though you were pretty certain he heard your approach, “Pepper’s not a superhero.” He repeated Steve’s words dulley. 

You gave a self-deprecating laugh as you tried twist open the cap of a beer, “I heard some of the stuff she did when Tony was going through, well, I dunno what he was going through but some of the stuff she’d done can be pretty heroic.” 

“...I’m not a hero…” You glanced at him, he was looking at the floor, or rather that’s just the direction his eyes were facing. You couldn’t be sure what he was seeing. 

“At least you’re super,” You tried to cheer him up, realizing that while you felt socially awkward, he must feel even more displaced than you. You wiped your hand on your pants and continued to try to twist the top off your beer, “I mean, aren’t you a super soldier like Steve?”

Bucky, although he hadn’t been looking at you, saw your struggle with the beer cap and took the bottle from you. He twisted it off, though it wasn’t a twist cap, easily and handed it back to you. “I don’t think anyone’s like Steve.” 

You thanked him and shrugged before taking a swig of the light beer. “Really, I feel like that’s a good thing.” You said as you leaned against the same counter he was leaning against.

He looked at you, brow raised and curious. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, Steve’s a good person. A really, really, good person. I’m like, eh, I’m an _ok_ person,” you rocked your hand side to side a bit and shrugged. “It’s totally selfish and kinda proves my point, but I’d feel like a peice of shit if two dudes like that lived so close to me.” 

“You’re not—" he faltered, not wanting to repeat your language so you saved him. “I’m not a goody two shoes. Like, if we were a TV show, Steve would so be the moral compass of the group. I’d prolly be like the selfish bitch that doesn’t wanna share food with anyone outside the group.” Clearly your imaginary TV show was set post apocalypse. 

You set your beer down on the counter and slid up so you could sit on the counter and swing your legs a little.

“Who would I be?” He asked, having to look up somewhat now that you were seated above him.

“You,” you started and grabbed your beer again, “Would be the dark antihero that all the girls love and would riot over if you died.” 

He let out a quiet chortle and shook his head, not quite agreeing with, but still finding your observations funny. Having finished his beer, he pushed off the counter and grabbed another. As he returned to his spot, he noticed random flecks of white splatted on your jeans. “Is that paint?”

You hummed and looked down at your pants. “I’ll be honest with you, I didn’t even notice that.” You said as you scratched at the paint stains. “But yea. Glow in the dark paint, to be specific.” You answered with a smile. 

Bucky just raised a brow at you, “What?” White paint he could understand. It was a common color for walls and such, and sometimes required a fresh coat depending on how long the walls had been painted. Was there an entire wall in your apartment that was glowing?

“Well, I like hammocks.” You started, only confusing him more. “And I bought this hammock from a guy on Craigslist, even paid him extra to bring it over to my apartment.” 

“You let a random man who posted an ad into your apartment?”

You had a sneaking suspicion that Bucky didn’t know that Craigslist was on the Internet, though he assumed right in that it’s a listing service. You shrugged though, not bothering to enlighten him, “Eh, I’m fairly confident that if I were to start screaming, Steve would run over and bust down my door all like “I’ll save you!” You did your imitation of Steve, even putting your hands on your hips and squaring out your shoulders. 

Bucky chuckled at first, but when his chuckled died down he seemed very serious. “Just Steve? You don’t think I’d save you?”

“I don’t know your life!” You answered with fake indignation, “I know Steve goes around busting down doors like he don’t know how to use a doorknob. Do you?” 

“I could. If I had to save you.” He answered with a shrug of his own, glancing away from you once he heard the words he said.

You, however, smiled, “Awww!” You cooed and put one hand over your heart and the other on his shoulder. “That’s so sweet! But you know, now that you said that, I totally expect you to come save me whenever I’m in trouble now.” 

Bucky rolled his eyes, “What’s this got to do with paint?” He asked, clearly changing the subject. But you let it slide, considering that was the point of the conversation in the first place.

“I always thought it would be cool to lay in a hammock and stare up at the stars. But I don’t have a balcony and it’s not like I can drag the thing up and down the stairs whenever I want to see the stars. So I painted the canopy black. Then I mixed in glow in the dark paint with white paint and painted the night sky.” 

Bucky looked back at you, a soft smile gracing his lips, “I’d like to see it, if I can.” He said genuinely.

You gasped excitedly, “Oh you totally should! I mean, I don’t wanna brag or anything, but I might be the next Van Gogh.” 

Buckled chuckled again, his smile not falling even though his laughter faded, as you went on to describe just how much research you put into the project. 

***  
“So, it looks like Bucky is adjusting just fine. I’ve never seen him like that.” Natasha said as she coolly sipped her drink and glanced over where you and Bucky were laughing together. 

Steve turned, as he had been facing Natasha, and watched, momentarily surprised when he saw Bucky laughing at something you said. “Me neither. At least, not in a long time.” 

He turned back to the others, vaguely aware that he had been pushing the two of you to develop a friendship that might actually be something more. “It’s good. Bucky deserves some happiness after everything…” He trailed off and it took a comment from Sam to get everyone talking about something else again. 

***

It was surprisingly Tony who first left the party, of course it was at the behest of Pepper. The two of them had some important meeting or another that they had to be at tomorrow and so couldn’t stay long. Clint was the next to leave, though he packed a bit of food away to bring back to his family. Natasha, naturally, left after Clint.

The three of you were the last to part, after about an hour or so after the others had left. Even so, it was just turning dark when you made it to your apartment. 

“Thanks for coming, Y/N. Goodnight.” Steve smiled at you as you opened your door. Bucky, again, nodded at you and the two of them went back to their own apartment. 

Around nine you were pulled from your TV show, it was just about over anyways, by a knocking at the door. Curious you checked the peephole and opened the door a little surprised, “Hey Bucky, what’s up?”

“Steve’s hogging the TV again.” 

You laughed. While both men wanted to catch up on modern pop culture, they apparently had different tastes in television. You stepped aside and let him in, “Can’t guarantee that you’ll like whatever I’m watching though.” You warned.

Bucky just shrugged, “Actually, I wanted to see something.” He mumbled and looked around your apartment. 

You followed his line of sight and smiled brightly, “The stars!” You were quite excited to show someone your work. “Come on!” You said, grabbing his hand and leading him to the hammock, pausing to turn off the television, leaving the room dark except for the light that poured through the windows, and to grab a throw pillow from the couch. 

The hammock was a dark green color, it wasn’t mesh like a traditional hammock, but rather quilted. It was quite large too, could easily hold the two of you. Already he could see the faint green lights on the canopy. There was already one pillow on the hammock, and as you layed down you left the other pillow for Bucky. He just sat down though, not needing the pillow. 

You looked up at him questioningly, “Dude, what are you doing?”

He was honestly surprised by your question. “What do you mean?”

“It’s a hammock, not a chair. Lay down.” You ordered, though realizing it sounded like a dog command you added, “Besides, I painted this to be looked at laying down.” 

A bit awkwardly, though the both of you tried to ignore it, he moved the pillow next to yours and steadied himself as he laid down. The shift in weight on his side caused you to roll close to him. He ended up laying on his back and you were more on your side, your front facing his left side. For comfort, he ended up loosely, very loosely in fact, wrapping his left— metal— arm behind you, his hand resting near your upper arm. One of your own arms was tucked underneath your chin, though how easy it would be to rest it on his abdomen instead, and you kept the other at your hip. After a few seconds of waiting for the hammock to settle, the two of you looked up at the glowing dots. 

“See, that there’s the big dipper and the little dipper.” You pointed at the stars facing the same direction, rather proud of yourself for not only knowing what the star patterns looked like, but for the way you painted them as well. 

Bucky nodded once, immediately recognizing the patterns that you pointed out. He could see the outline of others, though he wasn’t certain that he knew the names of such constellations. You traced an arrow in the air, “That’s Aquila.” Then you made a sweeping motion with your finger, creating a ‘7’, “And that’s Aries.” 

Apparently that was about as accurate you got with your painting, for though he was certain there was some constellation named after a dog, the figure you pointed to on the canopy looked more like a representation of an actual dog than anything in the sky. He grinned, holding back a laugh until you were done pointing out the rest of the constellations. 

“Oh, that ‘W’ shape, that’s Cassiopeia! Aaaand, that weird, blob, almost dick shape, is Gemini.” This time Bucky couldn’t hold back his laughter, his deep chuckle shaking both of you in the hammock. 

“The two fishes are Pisces,” You pointed to two very distinct fish shapes, not representative of the stars at all.“Oh and Orion’s belt.” You were giggling at this point, his laughter so contagious. There were a few more “constellations” that you hadn’t pointed out, but the two of you knew you had just taken the symbols from some random horoscope article and painted those on. 

“I know it’s not accurate, but I still like it, I thought it was fun.” 

Bucky shook his head a little and squeezed the arm he had around your lightly, “No. I like it too. It’s...you.” 

You looked up at him with a surprised smile. You had expected him, or anyone who saw the painting really, to tell you that you were wrong. You had imagined that some would point out the subtle mistakes of too many or too few stars in a constellation. Others would laugh at the artistic liberties you’d taken. But he hadn’t. He was still looking at the “stars” in wonderment, still with that smile on his face. 

“Thanks, Buck.” 

He looked down at you, though the smile fell from his lips it didn’t leave his eyes. Realizing how close you were to him, how intimate the position could easily turn, and how hot your face was, you looked away from him, back at the stars. 

***

Three loud raps startled Bucky awake. He couldn’t tell if it was the jolt of his body that woke you up or the knocking, but your stirred next to him, taking in a deep breath as you tried to wake up.

Bucky craned his neck to look at the door, as if that alone would let him see whoever was knocking, and you rolled off of the hammock. At first Bucky thought you might’ve fell, he was quick to put one leg down and steady himself while he looked at you, about to jump out of the hammock to help you up. But you didn’t fall. You had rolled off the hammock sure, but you landed on your toes, knees bent, and braced yourself with one hand. There was a certain grace to the landing that spoke of you making such landings numerous times before. But whatever grace you had while getting out of the hammock, you lost as you stumbled your way to the door. 

He got up, albeit not as dramatically as you had and moved to your side as you both pulled your phone from your back pocket and answered the door, without even checking the peephole or asking who it was. Luckily it was only Steve. 

“Y/N, have you seen—"

Bucky, hair still a mess from sleeping, stood next to you and Steve’s question died on his lips. “Uh, sorry. I was just worried—"

You mumbled something incomprehensible, squinting your eyes and scrunching up your face as you moved your phone in front of you. 

Steve, correctly, guessed what your question had been. “It’s almost one thirty. Sorry to wake you, but Bucky hadn’t come back home and—" 

You just grunted and waved your hand in their direction, shuffling to your room. Bucky sighed and his hand through his hair, “Sorry, I fell asleep.” 

Steve grinned at him but before he could say anything, Bucky yelled to you. “Y/N. I’m going back to the apartment, lock the door.” 

You just grunted loudly, though they could barely hear it and Steve laughed. “She’s not going to lock the door, is she?” 

Bucky shook his head, “I’ll crash here then. See you tomorrow.” Steve nodded, bid his friend a good night and even tried to wish you goodnight, though it fell on deaf ears. After he locked the door, Bucky thought about either sleeping on the couch or laying back down on the hammock. Only after glancing in the direction of your room did he change his mind. 

***

You didn’t know how you ended up in your bed. You could have sworn you fell asleep on the hammock next to Bucky, but still as you slowly woke up, you realized you were quite comfortably settled in your bed. After another moment you realized that you were snuggled very close to Bucky, his left arm wrapped around you and keeping you pressed against his chest, and you felt heat prickling at your face at the fact that you were sleeping with Bucky. 

Apparently Bucky was a light sleeper. While you had only shifted a little to get a look at who you were cuddling with, you made no other noise or movements. Still, it was enough to wake the man. Peering at you through half lidded eyes he grunted a good morning. You just smiled and looked down, ostensibly to get back into the position that you woke up in, but really you were slightly embarrassed to have been caught looking at him. 

“Bucky?” You asked softly, though you still refused to look at him. 

He just hummed, probably not even noticing that you weren’t looking at him. 

“I’m comfy.” 

“Me too.” He murmured sleepily.

“...I dun wanna get up.” You admitted shyly, burrowing your face into his shoulder. 

His arm around your tightened for a second before he relaxed again, “Then don’t.” 

And you didn’t. Neither did he.

**Author's Note:**

> Awkward: I almost wrote a kissing scene but I realized that my real life intimacy issues are so strong that I can't even write out an intimate scene...which doesn't bode well for my main fic that I'm working on...


End file.
